


The Ties That Bind

by silversunset3



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Aliens didn't make them do it but may have given them ideas, BDSM, Blow Jobs, Bondage, Collars, Gags, Getting Together, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-01
Updated: 2021-03-01
Packaged: 2021-03-12 21:22:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,746
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29765814
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/silversunset3/pseuds/silversunset3
Summary: Colonel John Sheppard. On his knees. Tied up. And, well, wasn't that a sight?
Relationships: Rodney McKay/John Sheppard
Comments: 4
Kudos: 37





	The Ties That Bind

**Author's Note:**

> I read a lot of fanfic, but I don't usually _write_ it. And I've never written anything smutty before. But I got this idea in my head and, well... I just couldn't let it go.

The trip to G3X-959 had been like so many others: a routine mission to investigate some weird energy readings that had suddenly gone sideways in a hail of bullets. 

There'd been running, shouting, shooting. Somewhere along the way, Sheppard had been captured. And now, several hours later, Rodney, Teyla, and Ronon were methodically searching a truly disgustingly large abandoned prison complex that they'd most certainly _not_ known was hidden underground, looking for their missing team leader. 

Which is how Rodney found himself outside of a thick metal door with a datapad spliced into the mess of wires he'd ripped from a control panel, trying to override the locking mechanism. It was the first locked door he'd encountered on this level, which seemed promising. If only he could just… 

"Ha!" The lock finally released with a click, and Rodney shoved open the door, barreling into the room. "Sheppard?" 

He stopped short. The colonel was there, but… It took Rodney a second to process what he was seeing. 

Sheppard was kneeling on the stone floor with his hands tied behind his back and some kind of elaborate gag covering the lower half of his face. He was looking up at Rodney through his lashes, unable to straighten up thanks to a length of chain that connected a collar around his neck to the ground between his knees.

Colonel John Sheppard. On his knees. Tied up. And, well, wasn't that a sight? 

Rodney felt his blood flow south, and immediately shut down his brain's attempt to supply him with the least helpful images ever. Now was _not_ the time. Sheppard – his _friend_ – was in trouble. 

Embarrassed, and hoping the other man hadn't noticed anything amiss, he did what he usually did when flustered: started rambling. 

"Sheppard! I'm so glad I found you. We were worried they'd moved you somewhere else. Teyla and Ronon are checking rooms on the levels above and below. Are you okay?"

Sheppard, unable to speak, just gave him a _look_. Rodney mentally kicked himself.

"Right, sorry, stupid question, not like you can say anything right now. Let me help with that." He hurried over, dropped down next to the colonel, and examined the over-the-top gag. 

"Who even designed this thing?" he muttered. "It's entirely impractical. I mean sure, if they were going for aesthetics, it's definitely got a certain _look_. But if all they wanted to do was shut you up, there are easier ways of doing it…"

When he'd finally released enough of the straps to pull the thing off, he found they'd stuffed a wad of cloth into Sheppard's mouth as well. He pulled that out, too, and the other man coughed. "About damn time, McKay."

"Yes, well, I don't know if you noticed, but this place is _huge_ and we had no idea where they'd put you. And Ronon shot the last guy before we could ask him, so."

"Just get the cuffs off, would you?"

"I'm _working_ on it," Rodney snapped. The cuffs, like the gag or muzzle or whatever, were also made of leather, but they had small padlocks on the buckles. And they were attached by a short, solid chain to a pair of matching cuffs around the colonel's ankles. "I don't have a key for these," he said. 

"They're leather. Get out a knife and cut them off," said Sheppard in exasperation. 

"Knife. Right. Good idea." Rodney unsheathed the blade John had insisted he carry, but then stopped. "What if I accidentally cut you? Wrists bleed a lot. If I nick you in the wrong place…"

Sheppard rolled his eyes. "So don't cut me. Come on, Rodney, either do it or radio Ronon and Teyla. This floor sucks and my knees are killing me." 

Rodney glanced down at the stone floor, gaze snagging on the chain between the other man's knees. His eyes followed the length of it up, to the collar at Sheppard's throat. Upon closer inspection, the chain was only clipped on. 

"Huh," said Rodney, and he unclipped it, which at least allowed John to straighten his spine somewhat. "Padlocks on the cuffs, but that's just a clip? Weird. Guess they figured you couldn't remove it yourself with your wrists bound up in kinky bondage cuffs." 

Sheppard let out a startled laugh. "Kinky bondage cuffs?" 

Wait, shit, had Rodney actually said that out loud? What the hell was wrong with him today? He barrelled on ahead, trying for indignation and sounding somewhat closer to hysteria. "Yes, I mean, how else would you describe it? All this leather and straps and buckles? They put a _collar_ on you, for Christ's sake! If this were Earth, the whole thing would scream 'kinky bondage scene.'" 

"And exactly how many _kinky bondage scenes_ have you been a part of, McKay?" Sheppard sounded amused.

Nope, nuh uh, they were _not_ having this conversation. 

"That's entirely beside the point," he said, and pulled on the buckle at the back of the collar. There was a split second where the leather tightened in the process, and Rodney told himself he _absolutely_ had to have imagined the way Sheppard's breath seemed to catch in something other than pain or surprise. "There, better?" 

"Yeah, but I would be even better if you'd _cut the damn cuffs off_." 

"Okay, okay, jeez, should have left the gag for last…" Rodney muttered, and then slid the blade as carefully as he could between the cuff on one wrist and John's skin. He winced slightly, envisioning blood that, of course, did not appear.

It took a little more sawing than he'd have preferred, and he kept muttering "sorry" the entire time, but then Sheppard's wrist was free, and he was taking the knife from Rodney and cutting the other cuff off with much more surety. 

Sheppard groaned as he sat down properly and swung his legs out in front of him. "My damn leg's asleep. You didn't happen to find my gear, did you?" he asked as he began slicing through the ankle cuffs. 

Rodney gestured over his shoulder towards the door. "Actually, yes! Your vest and P90 were in a room a couple doors down."

"Would you mind grabbing them? And tell Teyla and Ronon where we are. Do you have any water?" 

"Oh, sure, here." Rodney pulled a bottle out of his pack and handed it over. "Be right back." 

Once in the hallway and out of Sheppard's line of sight, Rodney stopped, leaned against the wall, and mentally shook himself. Kinky bondage scene? What had gotten into him today? 

Finding Sheppard like that had really thrown him for a loop. He wasn't likely to forget what John had looked like, bound and gagged and disheveled; that image was seared into his memory forever. But the situation was all wrong. Sure, he'd imagined once or twice or several times having John on his knees, but in all of those fantasies the other man was an eager participant and not a prisoner on an alien planet. 

And besides, this wasn't the first time he'd had to rescue Sheppard from a similar predicament, and he'd never reacted like _this_ before. Usually he was perfectly capable of keeping fantasy where it belonged and _doing his damn job_. 

_Pull it together, McKay_ , he told himself, and then retraced his steps to the room where he'd seen Sheppard's gear, letting Ronon and Teyla know the colonel was safe along the way. The other man's vest, gun, and thigh holster were all there, along with his comm. How nice of the bad guys to leave all the equipment behind in one place. 

He ran into Sheppard – now with enough feeling in his leg to walk, apparently – at the door to his cell. "Oh, good, you're up," he said brusquely. "Shall we get out of here, then?"

"Yeah, let's," said Sheppard, taking his things and fitting the comm back into his ear. Rodney tried really hard not to stare at the other man's wrist, reddened from where he'd clearly struggled to get free, or at the faint indentations at his throat from where the collar had been just a touch too tight. 

Apparently his attempts not to stare were only so successful, because Sheppard caught him watching intently and shot Rodney a funny look. Not a glare, not even really confusion. He almost looked amused? But there was something else there, too, that Rodney couldn't decipher. He felt his face heat up and looked pointedly down the hall instead. 

Sheppard, meanwhile, finished strapping his holster back on and then radioed the rest of the team. "Teyla, Ronon, McKay and I are heading out. Meet us wherever you came in." He stepped back into Rodney's line of sight and gestured down the corridor. "Lead the way." 

The walk back to the Gate was, thankfully, uneventful. And once Ronon and Teyla were with them, Rodney found it a lot easier to rein in his traitorous imagination and forget about how fucking hot John had looked back there. Debriefing Elizabeth further distracted him – he and John both glossed over exactly _how_ Rodney had found him – and by the time he'd gone off to the lab to check in on the other scientists, he'd put it from his mind entirely for the moment. 

…

Three days after G3X-959, Sheppard dropped by the lab and asked Rodney if he wanted to share some beers and watch a movie the following night.

"Sure," he agreed, not thinking much of it. 

… 

The next evening, Rodney was in his room reading through the results of the latest simulations he'd been running when there was a knock at the door. 

"Come in," he called over his shoulder, eyes still on his laptop screen. Some of these numbers were off in ways that did not bode well. 

"Hey Rodney," said Sheppard. "I see you're still working." 

"Yes, yes, I'll be with you in just a minute…" Hm, yeah, those readings were a little too far outside tolerance. He'd need to tweak a few things tomorrow and rerun the test. Damn. 

With a frustrated sigh, he pushed the laptop away and got up from his desk with a stretch. When he finally turned to face Sheppard, he found that his friend was perplexingly empty-handed. "I thought you were bringing the beer?"

"Here's the thing," said John. "We could watch a movie, sure, but I kind of had something else I wanted to do tonight." 

Rodney felt a pang of disappointment and tried to ignore it. "Oh, uh, sure thing, I mean, I've got more data to read through, so…" He thumbed over his shoulder in the direction of his abandoned laptop. 

John pulled a face. "I meant _with_ you, Rodney. Jeez, I'm not trying to ditch you."

Rodney let out a relieved huff. "Great, because honestly? I really don't feel like staring at those equations any more tonight. I'm going to have to adjust the parameters and rerun the whole simulation, and Zelenka's going to be an insufferable bastard about it because he suspected I was being too generous, never mind that doing it _his_ way wouldn't have worked, either, if my math's right – which of course it is, because, hello, genius? But–" Rodney trailed off, finally noticing the bemused look on Sheppard's face. "What?"

"Nothing," Sheppard lied, trying – and failing – to hide a smile.

"No, no, I know. I'm rambling again, and you don't care."

"It's not that I don't care," Sheppard objected. "It's just…"

Rodney raised an eyebrow. "Just?" 

"Well, okay, yeah, I don't care," John acquiesced. 

"Thought not." Rodney replied, without any bite. "So wait, what did you want to do tonight? Any distraction would be great. Though, I should warn you – if it's got anything to do with sparring or Teyla's Bantos rods, I'm not interested; she kicked my ass yesterday and I'm still sore from it. I think she bruised my kidney." He rubbed at the small of his back, which was in fact still tender from the previous day's training session. 

John rolled his eyes, but he was laughing. "I'm sure your kidney is fine. And Beckett will get it sorted out if it's not."

"As if I'd voluntarily let that witch doctor prod at my tender kidney," Rodney muttered. "But anyway, your idea?"

John, who had appeared relaxed enough up until now, seemed to tense slightly, almost as if nervous. "It might be a terrible idea," he warned.

Now it was Rodney's turn to roll his eyes. "Coming from you, Colonel Suicide Run? That would not surprise me." 

"I mean it, Rodney, this might be a terrible idea. You can say no. In fact, if you think it's a terrible idea, you _should_ say no, and we can pretend I never suggested it."

"Okay, now you're just being weird," said Rodney, who was getting the distinct impression that John was _stalling_. "Well, weirder than usual," he amended. "C'mon, out with it." 

John shuffled from foot to foot awkwardly. Finally, with a sheepish expression, he pulled something out of his pocket and held it out to Rodney. 

Rodney took the proffered mass of… leather straps? Closer examination revealed it to be the collar and gag-muzzle-thing John had been sporting when Rodney had found him on G3X-959. Apparently John had pocketed them on their way out. Huh. 

Thoroughly confused – because none of the possibilities that had flashed through his mind had included _this_ – Rodney looked back at Sheppard, who was still fidgeting and looking anywhere but at Rodney directly. 

"I'm sorry – what?" he asked, lamely. 

The color was high in Sheppard's cheeks. "I… want you to use them. On me," he clarified – though it wasn't much clarification at all, in Rodney's opinion. 

Rodney just stared, mouth agape, while his brain simultaneously tried to process and unhelpfully supplied him with vivid memories of the sight of John in that cell, all trussed up, just a few days before.

"You want me to…" he began faintly.

The embarrassment in John's expression bled into a more familiar annoyance. But his tone was more pleading than peeved when he said, "Come on, McKay, do I really need to spell it out? Thought you were a genius." 

"Yes, actually, spelling it out would be helpful," Rodney bit back. "I'm sorry, I'm just having a little trouble figuring out how we got from _Hey, Rodney, want to watch a movie?_ to _Hey, Rodney, want to tie me up and_ … and what? You want me to tie you up and…?"

Sheppard glared for a second, but then he sighed, seemed to steel himself, and said bluntly, "I want you to tie me up and let me suck you off, and then I want you to gag me and do whatever you want with me." 

"Oh." Rodney felt like he was having some strange out-of-body experience. Was he dreaming? This had to be a dream, right? Or maybe he was hallucinating. Did Teyla hit him over the head yesterday? He didn't think so, but if he were lying unconscious in the infirmary right now, caught in some bizarre fever dream, he might not remember. That said, on the off chance this was real… "Well, okay then."

"'Well okay then'?"

"Sure, I mean, it's an unexpected request, but I can work with this. It's been a while since I've dommed, but why not? Huh, who would've guessed Colonel John Sheppard would have a thing for bondage…"

"I don't _have a thing_ ," John retorted. Rodney gave him a look, and he rubbed the back of his neck self-consciously. "Okay, maybe I _do_ have a bit of a thing. Sometimes."

"Why me though? Surely Pegasus's own Captain Kirk could have anyone he wanted. Why me?"

"Because I trust you. And I saw the way you looked at me when you found me on 959."

Rodney felt his face heat up in embarrassment. "I have no idea what you're–" 

"Oh c'mon, Rodney," John cut him off. " _Kinky bondage scene_? And the way you kept trying not to stare at the marks on my wrists and neck? Yeah, I'm pretty sure you want me, too. And honestly? I've wanted you to fuck me for ages."

Rodney's brain was having a hard time catching up again. John… wanted Rodney to fuck him? Had wanted it for _ages_? 

"Oh." _Again with the 'oh'? So eloquent, McKay. Some genius you are._ "Ages? Why didn't you say something sooner?"

"I didn't think you'd be interested. I didn't think I'd be your type."

"My type?"

"Yeah, you know, a woman."

"Oh, that," Rodney scoffed. "I'm bi, Sheppard. I just don't go advertising it. All you American military types and your stupid rules… And I know, I know, I'm not _in_ the military and I'm not subject to them, but it seemed safer not to advertise it. For the record, you are absolutely my type. Have you _seen_ you? You're everyone's type. Plus you've got that whole math thing going on…"

John cocked an eyebrow. " _Math thing_?"

Rodney waved his hand around in John's general direction. "How you put up the dumb flyboy facade, but you're actually ridiculously smart and it's insanely, infuriatingly hot."

John looked amused. "Anyway," he said, letting it drop for the moment – though Rodney suspected there'd be future teasing as a result of _that_ admission – and jumping back to Rodney's previous question, "it's like you said about the military. You didn't ask, I wasn't telling. You know how it is. It's not something I advertise, either." 

"But you like men."

"I like men," John confirmed. "And women. But importantly, I like _you_ , and I'd really like it if we could…"

"Fuck."

"Yes, fuck." 

"Specifically, you want _me_ to fuck _you_. With –" and here Rodney held up the handful of leather he'd been holding this whole time "– bondage."

"Now you're getting it! Knew you were a genius." 

Rodney chose to let that one slide with no more than a dirty look. His attention went back to the items in his hand, now that he'd remembered they were there. He separated out the strappy muzzle. "I do have a real gag we can use," he said. "And cuffs, if you want."

"I'd ask you how or why, but I'm not sure I want to know."

"Oh, don't be like that," he said with an eye-roll. "I assumed I wouldn't get the chance to… indulge, here in Atlantis. But it also can't hurt to be prepared, so I brought a few personal items along on one of the trips back from Earth." 

"And these _personal items_ include bondage gear?"

Rodney just shrugged. "It's fun with the right person," was all he felt the need to supply. They could have a more in-depth conversation about it later, if John wanted to. But right now… 

"So, cuffs? Gag?" he asked, his body very much interested in the images his mind was supplying and encouraging him to move things along.

"Yes, god, yes," Sheppard groaned. "But use that –" he gestured at the straps in Rodney's hand "– too. Please. Just… make it like 959 again, but without the risk of death and with more fucking." 

"Alright," said Rodney. He still couldn't quite believe this was actually happening. "Let me get a few things. In the meantime…" He snapped his fingers and pointed at a spot on the floor near the foot of the bed "You, strip and kneel over there." 

The way John's breath seemed to catch at the command in his voice didn't escape Rodney's notice, and he couldn't help but smirk slightly. He wondered, as he went to fish a nondescript bag out from the back of the closet, if Sheppard would be better at following orders in the bedroom than he was at following orders outside of it. He couldn't wait to find out.

To the colonel's credit, Rodney found that he'd hastened to do as instructed; by the time Rodney had gathered the supplies he wanted, John was kneeling naked at the foot of the bed with his hands clasped behind his back. 

Rodney drank in the sight of him. He'd personally always felt a little self-conscious when naked in front of someone, but John seemed to have no such concerns. There was tension in his posture, but it seemed more anticipation than any kind of embarrassment or discomfort. 

Rodney set his things down on the bed and came to stand in front of John.

"Are you entirely sure about this?" he asked. 

"I'm kneeling naked on your floor, Rodney. What do you think?"

"I just have to be sure. What if someone finds out? Aren't you worried about your career?" Rodney absolutely did not want to be the reason Sheppard lost his job.

John sighed. "Look," he said, "yes, there's some risk if the wrong person finds out. But we're millions of light-years from Earth, and I don't think anyone in Atlantis gives a damn anyway. I really want to do this. So yes, I'm absolutely sure."

Well, that was good enough for Rodney. "In that case," he said, "I generally use the stoplight system in place of a safeword. Red for stop, yellow for slow down, green for everything's good. That work for you?"

"Yeah, that works for me. For the record, it's been a while but this isn't the first time I've done this, either."

"Great. And when" – not if, _when_ – "you're gagged, if you need to stop, snap your fingers. Got it?" 

John held up his right hand and snapped three times in confirmation. 

"Excellent. Now that we've got that covered… I'd really like to kiss you now." 

"God yes," John practically growled. He reached up, grabbed Rodney by the front of his tee shirt, and pulled him down into a bruising kiss. 

For a few minutes, Rodney all but forgot that John had come to him asking to be dommed. It was hard to think of much else when his entire focus was on the feel of John's lips against his, the slide of their tongues, the rough scratch of John's stubble against his chin. John nipped at Rodney's lower lip and Rodney shuddered. He'd been hard since well before even seeing John naked, and by now he was absolutely aching with desire. 

One of John's hands had a vice-like grip on Rodney's shoulder, and the other was roaming across the planes of his back under his shirt. When they separated for air, Rodney took the opportunity to pull it off and toss it aside. He was so wrapped up in the moment that he didn't even feel self-conscious for once, as John's eyes roved across his chest and down to where Rodney's sweatpants were very obviously tented. 

"God, Rodney," John groaned, "you have no idea how bad I want you right now."

Rodney's gaze shot down to John's equally hard cock. "If it's even half as much as I want you, I think I have a pretty good idea," he breathed, and then grabbed John by the back of the neck and pulled him into another filthy kiss. 

One hand remained carded through John's hair, and Rodney gave an experimental tug, noting the way John whimpered and leaned into it. He did it again, and the whimper gave way to a soft moan. Promising results indeed. 

After a time, Rodney's brain reminded him that John had had a _plan_ for the evening, and so Rodney reached to pull John's hands away from where they'd been busy touching every bit of Rodney's torso they could find. 

When his fingers closed around John's wrists, John's eyes shot open and he pulled in a sharp breath. Rodney added _that_ reaction to the list of things he'd absolutely have to investigate further in the future. 

"While I'd be more than happy to just keep doing this all night – and believe me, I _absolutely_ would – you did come here with a request. Still want me to tie you up and, what was it you said? Have my way with you?" 

"I believe my words were 'do whatever you want with me,'" John replied. "But yes."

"Alright, then," said Rodney. He let go of one of John's wrists, but kept his hold on the other as he reached over John's shoulder and grabbed the cuffs off of the bed. 

John watched, eyes wide, as Rodney carefully fit the cuffs around first one wrist and then the other. Rodney pushed himself back up off the floor from where he'd ended up kneeling in front of John, and moved around behind him. Gently, he pulled John's arms behind his back and clipped the cuffs together. 

John gave an experimental tug and then nodded in approval. 

The collar came next. Rodney ran the strip of leather through his fingers a couple of times, appreciating the weight of it, before securing it around John's neck. He watched John swallow and then groan softly when the motion made the leather pull tighter against his throat. 

"How's that?" Rodney asked. "Not too tight?"

"No, it's perfect," said John, eyes fluttering shut as he swallowed again. The muscles across his chest rippled as he gave another tug on the cuffs and again found them unyielding. "It's all really perfect." 

_You're perfect_ , Rodney thought, still in awe of the situation, of John, of John's trust. He refrained from saying it aloud, though; he didn't want to get sappy right now. After all, he had a role to play.

"So now that I've got you at my mercy…"

John's eyes were locked on Rodney's groin. "Please let me blow you," he begged.

"Well since you've asked so nicely," said Rodney, and pushed down his pants and boxers, finally freeing his cock. John licked his lips. 

Rodney stepped back into John's personal space. He carded one hand through John's hair again – neither pushing nor pulling, just resting – and grabbed the base of his erection with the other hand, lining it up for John, whose tongue darted out to lick a stripe across the tip.

The contact sent a jolt through Rodney, arousal coiling hot and heavy in his gut. He had time to do little more than gasp before John leaned in and took Rodney into his mouth.

"God, John," he sighed as John swirled his tongue around the head. He began to work his way up and down the shaft, unhurried, and Rodney struggled to master his self control. The feeling was incredible, but watching John like this, lips stretched around his cock, occasionally glancing up at him through his lashes… It was quite possibly the most erotic thing Rodney had ever seen. If he wasn't careful, this wouldn't last long. 

John set up a torturous rhythm, first focusing on the tip and then hollowing his cheeks and bobbing his head, pulling Rodney in just a little deeper each time. He was surprisingly controlled without the use of his hands, and Rodney suspected this wasn't the first time he'd done this while restrained. The thought sent a fresh wave of heat through him. 

Rodney lost himself in the sensation, the swipe of John's tongue, the suction, the warmth. He scratched at John's scalp, and John hummed with pleasure, pushing ever so slightly back into Rodney's hand. 

Remembering John's previous reaction, he tightened his grip just a bit in John's hair and gave a gentle tug; John groaned and Rodney felt it reverberate through him. "Oh fuck, John," he breathed. 

John redoubled his efforts, sinking even deeper, wringing a little noise of pleasure out of Rodney when he felt his cock bump the back of John's throat. John looked up, watching Rodney's face as he did something with his tongue that made Rodney's knees weak and his grip tighten in John's hair again.

Encouraged, John repeated the move several times, bringing Rodney closer and closer to the edge with each pass. 

"Fuck, you're so hot," Rodney found himself rambling. "You should see yourself right now, it's criminal."

John chuckled and Rodney gasped at the sensation. "Criminal," he panted. "Never would've guessed you'd be so good at this."

John locked eyes with Rodney, somehow managing to look coy with the tip of Rodney's cock still between his lips. Rodney thought he was going to stop, maybe say something, but instead John just took a deep breath and pushed forward again, further and further, until his nose bumped against Rodney's pelvis. 

Rodney, for his part, was trying desperately not to come there and then at the frankly mind-blowing feeling of having his cock buried in John's throat. His hand in John's hair spasmed and he forced himself not to just grab tight and fuck into that wet heat. 

And then John swallowed.

His self control shattered. Rodney gasped. "Oh, fuck, John, I'm gonna–" 

But John didn't back off. He just hummed, the sound sending vibrations zinging up Rodney's spine, and then Rodney was coming down John's throat and John was swallowing it all. 

For a blissful, perfect moment, Rodney was floating as he rode out the endorphin high. 

Belatedly, he realized his hand was fisted in John's hair, pinning him in place. He eased off, allowing John to pull back.

John took a gasping breath and then grinned up at Rodney. "Good?" he asked, as if the answer wasn't obvious, the smug bastard. His voice sounded a little rough, but he looked thoroughly pleased with himself.

"Christ, John," Rodney groaned. "That was… wow." His brain was starting to come back online, albeit slowly. 

"I was hoping you'd say that," said John.

"Really, wow. I don't know where you learned to suck cock like that, but, just, wow." He tipped John's chin up and leaned down to kiss him again. 

"There's just one slight problem," he said when he pulled back. 

"Oh?"

"As insanely hot as that was, and as insanely hot as you are, I am, unfortunately, not twenty years old anymore," said Rodney. "As much as I want to fuck you – and I really, really want to fuck you, John – I think it's going to be a while before I can, well, get it up again."

John shrugged his shoulders as best he could with his hands still cuffed behind his back. "So we save the fucking for later," he said, sounding entirely unconcerned. "I'm sure you can think of something else to do with me, when I'm completely at your mercy."

Rodney reached out, looped a finger under the collar at John's throat, and gave it a slight tug. "I do have a thing or two in mind," he confirmed as John gasped.

John recovered his composure quickly and raised an eyebrow. "Big brain like yours, I knew you would. You are a _genius_ , after all." How someone could manage to look so smug while naked and on their knees… 

Rodney gave the collar another pull just to watch John's eyes flutter shut again, effectively wiping away the smugness. 

"Mouthy," he observed. "Good thing we can fix that." And he grabbed the gag from the bed. He paused just long enough to ask, "Color?"

John gave him a lopsided grin. "Green as the rolling hills in spring," he affirmed. 

Rodney nodded in acknowledgement and then gripped John's chin. "In that case, open up," he commanded.

John obeyed immediately, and Rodney pushed the silicone ball into his mouth. It was a heady feeling, exercising the control John was surrendering to him; Rodney could really get used to this. 

He secured the strap snugly at the base of John's skull and then paused to appreciate just how sinfully good John looked with his lips stretched around the gag. It was frankly indecent in the absolute best way. But Rodney wasn't done yet. 

The gag in place, he picked up the leather muzzle from 959. Back on the planet, it had served to keep John from spitting out the wad of cloth they'd shoved in his mouth. Here on Atlantis, with access to a proper gag, it was entirely superfluous. But he couldn't deny that the aesthetic sure had been something. 

And being the one to put it back on John – John, who had _asked_ him to – well… 

He got to work, fastening each of the buckles, pulling everything snug while carefully avoiding catching any of John's hair. When he'd finished, he stepped back to admire his handiwork.

And… wow. 

John, on his knees again, this time wearing nothing but leather and his dog tags, looking up at Rodney with naked want… Rodney wanted to eat him alive. 

"God, you're hot," he groaned. 

John's pupils were still blown wide with lust and Rodney desperately wished he could get hard again so that he could actually fuck him. But that would have to wait. 

For now, John would have to settle for a blow job of his own. Somehow, Rodney suspected he wouldn't mind.

But first… 

He trailed a finger down John's jaw, skimming over leather straps, then down the line of his throat to the collar. He slipped a finger underneath, enjoying the reaction it elicited, and traced its edge around to the back of John's neck. 

From there his hand roamed down John's spine a short distance, raising goosebumps in its wake, then across the plane of one shoulder, around a deltoid, back across a clavicle. He continued working his way across John's pecs with feather-light touches and occasional scrapes of his nails. Down his chest, back up again. Up to the collar, then out around the other side of his neck. 

By the time he'd completed the mirroring circuit, John was shuddering with sensation.

"As great as you look down there, I want you to sit on the bed for this next part," said Rodney. He grabbed John around the biceps and steadied him as he got his feet under him. John took two steps back and then sat down hard when the backs of his knees hit the mattress. 

Rodney sank down to kneel between his thighs, running his fingers lightly down John's sides as he went. John looked down at him and whimpered. 

Rodney shot him a smirk in return and then let his gaze focus on John's cock, hard and leaking just inches from Rodney's face. He was tempted to jump straight to the final act, but the desperate little noises John was already making behind the gag encouraged him to draw things out just a bit longer. 

And so Rodney continued teasing John with his hands, tracing along his ribs, his abs, his thighs. He added his mouth to the mix, too, kissing and sucking and nipping at every bit of exposed skin, but continuing to avoid the one place John clearly wanted Rodney's attention most. 

It was only when John's whimpers had turned to what could only be classified as moans that Rodney decided to have mercy on him. He completed one more teasing pass with his lips across John's lower stomach as his hands caressed his thighs, and then finally he brought his lips to John's cock and sucked it into his mouth.

John had given him a truly excellent blow job, and Rodney, not to be outdone, was eager to return the favor. He gripped John's hips tightly, fingers digging into flesh, and got to work employing every trick at his disposal. 

John had only had his mouth to work with, but Rodney had his hands, too. He wrapped one around the base of John's cock and gave it a few slow pulls while he sucked and kissed around the head, before taking more of it into his mouth and pressing his tongue against the vein on the underside. 

He pulled back, flicked his tongue against the tip, then pushed forward again and sucked. Once. Twice. Three times. 

Rodney reveled in the solid weight of John's cock on his tongue, the taste of his skin. John gasped and shuddered above him, and Rodney reveled in that, too. 

When he felt he'd strung John along enough, Rodney took him deep, letting the head of his cock hit the back of his throat. That earned him a noise that was very nearly a sob. So Rodney peered up at John and did it again, savoring the look of desperation on John's face. He had to be getting close. 

Rodney pulled off entirely, and this time John _did_ sob. His hips jerked in an aborted thrust, and Rodney pinned them even more forcefully in place with both hands. He wondered vaguely if John would have bruises in the shape of his fingertips later. He sincerely hoped so. 

"Shh, don't worry, John, I'm not done with you yet," he said, ghosting his lips along John's inner thigh again. John just moaned, eyes shut, quivering in Rodney's grasp. 

Rodney couldn't resist teasing just a bit longer, so he kissed down the length of John's cock, applying just the barest pressure. One more swipe of his tongue around the head that earned him a gasp.

And then he did as John had done earlier and swallowed his cock down to the base. As Rodney had hoped, that was what drove John over the edge, and he came with a muffled shout. Rodney stayed where he was, holding his breath, until he felt the shaking in John's thighs subside. 

John was still panting when Rodney pulled back. He looked utterly wrecked, and it sent a fresh wave of arousal coursing through Rodney's veins. 

"So fucking hot," he said, watching John try to focus through the aftermath of his orgasm. 

Rodney released the death grip he had on John's hips and straightened up, bracing his elbows on the mattress and resuming the delicate ghosting of his fingertips across John's sides. John shivered. 

"Good?" Rodney asked. John nodded. His head tipped back and he arched his spine in the best approximation of a lazy stretch he could manage. Rodney watched the motion, the ripple of his muscles, the line of John's throat encircled in tight leather. 

God, the things he'd do to John, the things he'd beg John to do to him… 

He very much hoped this wouldn't be a one-time thing. 

"Ready for me to let you go?" he asked. John gave another nod, and Rodney moved from the floor to sit beside him on the bed. 

"You know," he said, reaching for the cuffs at John's wrists, "G3X-959 taught me a very important lesson," 

John made a questioning noise in the back of his throat. 

"I learned that ungagging you first was a huge mistake, and so I should leave that part for last."

The noise John made this time was more akin to a growl. 

Rodney knew he was being insufferable, and he relished the look of deep consternation on John's face. He could see through the facade well enough to know John wasn't actually mad. 

"Don't worry, Colonel, these cuffs are a lot easier to remove. I'll have you free in no time." He unclipped the carabiner that held them together as he spoke. "Ta-da."

He let John stretch properly for a moment and then set to work on the various straps around his head, removing both the muzzle and gag.

"Should have known you'd give a great blow job," said John as soon as he could speak again. "What with your oral fixation and all."

"I do not have an oral fixation," Rodney objected.

John reached out and laid two fingers against Rodney's lower lip. Without thinking, he sucked them into his mouth, completely undercutting any argument he could make. Damn traitorous body. 

John pulled his hand back. "Uh huh, sure you don't."

Rodney just rolled his eyes. "So I like giving head. Sue me."

"How about instead, we just do this again sometime? That was brain-meltingly good."

Now it was Rodney's turn to look smug. "We'd better not do it too often, then; you need all the brain cells you've got." He was trying for snarky, but he knew it had backfired from the teasing smile that stole across John's face.

"Oh that's right, you have a _math thing_." 

Yep, there it was; Rodney knew that one would come back to bite him. Only took, what, an hour and some change? He glared. 

"Guess I'd better be careful; if my IQ drops, I'll just be a hot, cocky flyboy and I'll lose my appeal."

"Oh, for the love of god, would you please shut up?" Rodney grumbled, and then grabbed John by the nape of the neck and kissed him again, effectively guaranteeing his silence.

John just grinned against his lips and kissed him back.

…

_Fin._


End file.
